Firestarter
by Jack M. Kaiser
Summary: Revenge is a dish best served cold, but when Jack is the mistaken target, the dish is nearly fatal. AU slight MacGyver crossover, firemanverse
1. Chapter 1

**Firestarter**

**By Jack M. Kaiser**

Revenge is a dish best served cold, but when Jack is the mistaken target, the dish is nearly fatal.

**Chapter 1**

"**Second Arson Fire Claims Another Fire Chief As Shooting Victim."**

Sam stared at the headline after she'd read the article more times than she could remember. Without moving her eyes from the bold printed words, she leaned back in her chair and tried to rub away the goosebumps that had formed on her arms. Taking a drink of her coffee, she began to read the article yet again. Some psychopath was setting fires and shooting the fire chiefs at the scene. No leads, no clues, and no witnesses. Two innocent men were dead and two buildings destroyed. The newest occurrence was just ten miles away and that's what scared her the most.

When Jack was promoted last year, she felt a sense of relief because she thought that he'd be safer since he wouldn't be going into the fire. But, now she wondered how safe he really was. What if he was next? She quickly shook the thought from her head. Maybe she would just talk to him about taking some time off until the police catch whoever is doing this. She glanced up at the clock on the kitchen wall and saw that it was noon. Jack and MacGyver should be back from the store soon and then she could relax with her arms tightly around him.

SG-1 SG-1 SG-1

Jack pushed the shopping cart down the cereal aisle as his twin brother wheeled himself by his side. He'd felt happier since MacGyver had moved to Colorado from Los Angeles nine years ago after he was released from the rehabilitation hospital. Ever since his brother was paralyzed in an attack during one of his assignments, Jack had been worried about him. His mind wandered back to when he'd got the call from their dad that Mac was attacked and had fallen, landing on the roof of a car three stories below. The anger welled up inside him as he remembered how the bastards that had nearly killed his brother had callously stood by his bedside while he was in the coma. Never in his life had he felt such a strong urge to snap someone's neck as he did the day that Mac woke up and communicated who had done that to him. When his dad held his gun to them, he wished that he would have pulled the trigger. Mac had yelled at him for thinking such things as soon as he regained his speech.

After he'd returned to Colorado, he got a call from his dad saying that Mac was taking his anger for the Egyptian thieves who had hurt him and using it as fuel in therapy. He wished that he could have stayed by his brother's side and helped him through his therapy, but he had duties at home. Mac had spent nearly three months in the hospital and another nine months in a rehabilitation facility. Jack had to give him credit for making it through it. Waking up to find out that you were paralyzed would in itself be a hellish experience, but add a year of being in a hospital to it and you have the perfect recipe for total insanity.

That was ten years ago, but in a lot of ways it seemed like yesterday. It made him proud when he thought of how MacGyver didn't let his disability get him down. He'd gone back to college and got a degree in Early Childhood Education. When he graduated he got a job teaching science at an elementary school here in Colorado Springs. Now that he and their dad had moved there with Jack, Uncle George, and their little brother Daniel, life was much better.

"Jack!"

Jack looked down and saw MacGyver staring up at him like he had broccoli coming out of his nose, "What?"

"Wake up and help me pick out some cereal. Where were you anyway?"

"Just thinkin' is all."

"Oh, God, someone had better start fanning the smoke alarm!"

"Ha ha, so not funny," Jack retorted as he picked up a box of Froot Loops from the shelf.

"You ain't getting those are you?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Do you know how much sugar are in those things?"

"They're my favorite, Mac. You know that. That's another big difference between us; I eat what's good."

Mac just rolled his eyes then pushed his wheelchair farther down the aisle and grabbed a box of Shredded Wheat from the shelf. Jack caught up to him and waited for him to put the box in the cart.

"So, will Nikki be back from Virginia before Christmas?" Jack asked as they started toward the cash register.

"No, she's not due back until mid-January. It's not the first Christmas that we spent apart ya know."

"I know that. I just thought that maybe the FBI would cut her loose for a few days over the holidays," Jack replied as he began to put the items from the cart on the counter.

"Normally they would, but this training is very important. She'll have those days off, just won't have time to come home," Mac answered then dug his wallet out of the carry-all on the side of his wheelchair.

"Put that away, Mac. I got this," Jack said as he quickly handed the cashier a few bills from his own wallet.

MacGyver flashed his twin brother a mock glare then smiled. Jack gave him a crooked smile and pushed the cart outside. He parked the cart up against the side of his truck then walked around to the passenger side to help MacGyver get into the cab. MacGyver locked the wheels on his wheelchair as Jack opened the door. Mac reached his hand up to grab a hold of the truck seat to heft himself up, but before his hand took hold Jack wrapped his arms under MacGyver's and lifted him up.

"Jack! You're going to throw your back out doing that one of these days," MacGyver scolded as he used his arms to shift into the seat.

Jack stuck his tongue out at Mac. "Hey, it's my job to help people."

MacGyver gave Jack a playful swat and allowed him to help him swing his paralyzed legs into the truck. Jack then folded Mac's wheelchair up and lifted it into the back of the truck before he unloaded the groceries from the shopping cart.

SG-1 SG-1 SG-1

The bright mid-day sun beat down as Jack drove his truck down the street they lived on. He smiled as he passed the house that his father, Pete, shared with his fraternal twin brother George. Next door was his own home, where his beautiful wife was waiting for him to come home. He pulled into the driveway of the house on the other side of his own where MacGyver lived with his wife, Nikki. It was a wonderful and rare surprise that they were able to find homes in the same cul-de-sac let alone all in a row. It made having get-togethers much easier.

"Ya know you could've just gone to your house and I coulda wheeled home from there," Mac said as he readied himself to get out of the truck.

"I know, but I think it'd be hard to do that with an inch of snow on the ground and fifty bags of groceries," Jack replied then jumped out of the truck to get MacGyver's wheelchair ready. He sat the chair on the ground then opened it up before pushing to the passenger side of the truck. He opened the door and helped his brother out and into his wheelchair.

"Fifty bags my eye! Most of it's yours and there is _not_ an inch of snow on the ground. It's a dusting at best," Mac teased his brother. He started toward his house to unlock the door, but stopped and started laughing.

"What's so funny?" Jack asked as he walked up to where Mac was with his hands full of cloth grocery bags.

"Oh, I was just thinking of how that cashier was staring at us. It was like she was wondering if she had a bit too much to drink last night and was seeing double," Mac replied then started toward the door again.

Jack had to laugh too. By now they were used to people staring at them because they were identical in every way with the obvious exception being MacGyver in a wheelchair. "Well, cut her some slack, Mac. She's new in town and we gotta give her time to adjust before we have a little fun."

Twenty minutes later the groceries were sorted and what was MacGyver's was put away. The twins sat at Mac's kitchen table, drinking coffee and talking.

"I better get going. Sam and I have the night shift tonight."

"Thanks for taking me to the store," MacGyver said as he pushed his wheelchair back from the table.

"Not a problem. Hey, Sam and I are on night shift again on Monday and we're going to have the department Christmas party then. Ya wanna come?"

"Sure. You said about Nikki getting Christmas off and you're working it too."

"Ha ha. You want stay with us Sunday night?"

"Yeah, sure, what time?"

"I'll come and get ya about five that way you can have dinner with us."

"Jack, I'm a big boy ya know. I think I can come over all by myself."

"The boogey man might get ya," Jack teased his brother with a wink. "I'll be here at five, okay?"

"Yes, boss."

"Call if ya need anything and if ya can't reach me, call dad or Uncle George."

MacGyver snapped off a sloppy salute, "Yes, Fire Chief O'Neill. I will obey your every command."

"Funny, Mac, so very NOT funny," Jack snipped then smiled. He gave his brother a hug and left.

SG-1 SG-1 SG-1

The cheery sound of Christmas music and children's laughter added to the jolly atmosphere in the fire station's community hall. Jack stood dressed in a Santa suit with his arms around his wife from behind, chatting and laughing with his brother and a few members of the fire department. MacGyver smile widely as Jack finished telling the tale of how they were reunited twenty-five years ago and how he'd worked with his father, Pete Thornton, for nearly ten years without knowing it.

"Hey, don't forget, Jack. You worked here with Uncle George and you didn't know it either," Mac pointed out after Jack stopped laughing.

"Yeah, I know. I think the oddest part of it all is that the same thing happened to grandpa and then again with dad," Jack replied with a puzzled expression on his face.

"Man, I feel sorry for ya, Mac. Having a smartass like the Chief for a twin brother," T said then let out a deep laugh. "At least Danny Boy there lucked out with not looking like him."

Jack glared at the large African-American man, "Thanks for volunteering to hand wash the trucks."

Jack smiled at the horrified expression on his friend and fellow fireman's face. T opened his mouth to protest, but before he could say a word the shrill sound of the alarm rent the air.

"Structure fire, 804 Treemont! Structure fire, 804 Treemont!" The tinny voice announced over the intercom.

All of the fire department personnel at the party stood and after giving their significant others a quick kiss, they ran for the truck bay. Jack quickly stripped off the Santa suit and tossed it onto a chair. He started toward the truck bay, stopping and turning to his brother.

"Just go, Jack. I'll get Daniel to take me home then," MacGyver said, knowing why his brother stopped.

"Hey, Christmas Eve may have gotten screwed up, but I promise that we'll spend Christmas Day together with no interruptions," Jack told his family.

"Sounds great, now go," Pete called to his son then smiled.

Jack nodded and smiled before he ran into the truck bay, he hated to leave his family behind like this, but duty called. By the time he arrived in the bay, everyone was ready and piling into their assigned trucks. Jack grabbed his jacket and uniform cap from the rack then climbed into the passenger seat of the van.

SG-1 SG-1 SG-1

By the time the fire trucks arrived on scene, the small warehouse was fully engulfed in flames. Jack climbed out of the van as the crew jumped out of the trucks and readied to fight the fire. He hurried around to the front of the van, watching his men, and woman, in action. It made him proud to watch them do their jobs with professional precision without having to be told what to do or when to do it.

"Be careful, kids," he shouted out to the crew as they began to hose down the inferno.

"Will do, Sir," Sam replied then blew him a kiss before she disappeared around the side of the building.

Jack smiled then leaned back against the van. The sun was nearly set in the sky and the reddish glow from the sun added to aura from the fire. The black bellow of smoke floated up into the sky, blending with the dark clouds. He took his eyes off of the beautiful night sky and looked back at his crew who was hard at work.

"Chief!"

Jack looked over to see a young fireman racing toward him as fast as his bulky fire suit would allow.

"What is it, Johnson?"

"It's Lieutenant O'Neill, Sir. She tripped over a rogue hose out back and fell," the young man informed him breathlessly.

Jack's heart sank, "Is she okay?"

"She's out cold, Chief, and her hand's twisted to the side, probably broken."

"Get the EMT's back there!"

"They're already there. Wilson said that he'll check in with you when they're ready to transport her to the hospital."

All Jack could do was nod and watch helplessly as Johnson returned the nod then ran back in the direction he came from. He wanted to run to his wife's side, but they'd agreed from the start that they wouldn't put their personal relationship ahead of protocol. So, he stood there at his post and prayed that Sam was alright. It felt like forever until he heard Wilson's voice crackle over the radio that Sam was ready for transport. Jack straightened and watched as the EMTs hurried around the far corner of the building, pushing the stretcher as fast as they safely could.

"Don't worry, Chief, we'll keep you posted," the paramedic called to him as they loaded Sam's stretcher into the back of the ambulance.

"Thanks, Wilson. Now get her to the hospital!" Jack shouted back wishing that he could go with her.

A lump formed in Jack's throat as he watched the ambulance pull away. They had only been on scene twenty minutes and already someone was hurt. Not just anyone, but his beloved wife. It was Christmas Eve for crying out loud, only good things are supposed to happen. He turned his attention back to the fire and walked a few steps toward a nearby fire engine where a few members of his crew were working on freeing more hoses.

Thirty minutes later the fire was finally under control and for the first time since they'd arrived on scene Jack was alone. Everyone else was either battling the still burning fire or clearing the interior part of the building that was no longer burning. This was the part that he hated about calls since he'd been promoted to Fire Chief, the part where all of his friends and co-workers were converged on the scene and he was stuck on the sidelines.

As he watched longingly at his people doing their job, a noise like someone had thrown a rock at a metal sign caught Jack's attention and he turned around toward the back of the van. There was a small, bright flash a few feet behind the van at the tree line, briefly illuminating a pale face beneath a black hood then a white hot pain erupted in his stomach just below his ribs. His legs went out from under him and he collapsed to the ground; the cold, wet grass cutting into the side of his face.

Jack could hear voices shouting as his vision began to grey around the edges. His lower chest burned and he was cold, so cold. Panic coursed through him when he realized that he couldn't feel anything from his chest down. He clenched his eyes closed and groaned. A hand touched his arm causing him to jump and he opened his eyes to see T's sooty face in front of his own.

"T?" Jack inquired breathlessly.

"I'm here, Chief. Just hold on, help's on the way," T comforted his boss and friend.

Jack swallowed then licked his lips, the pain burning his insides like the fire that had consumed the building behind them. He looked up at T with pain glazed eyes, "W-as shot. Can't feel m-y legs."

Before T had a chance to reply, a flock of paramedics converged between them and soon Jack was secured on a gurney in the back of an ambulance. He'd passed out from the pain when one of the medics pressed a gauze pad against the bullet wound in his upper abdomen and he stayed that way until the hard pinch of a needle entering his arm brought him back to consciousness. The bright lights on the ambulance ceiling stabbed at his eyes as he slowly cracked them open.

"How are you feeling, Chief," the medic tending to him asked as he adjusted the oxygen mask on Jack's face.

"Burns," Jack huffed in reply.

"I know, we're almost at the hospital and they'll help you out with that," the older man replied as he readied a second IV.

"Another one?"

"I'm afraid so. It's standard protocol as you know."

"Yeah, t-they should- change that," Jack said then flinched as the needle slid home.

The medic laughed as he attached the line to Jack's arm with a piece of tape, "I agree."

Jack closed his eyes and allowed the sounds from the ambulance to flood his mind in a desperate attempt to push back the pain and keep his mind from going into a full blown panic. He had a sneaking suspicion as to why he couldn't move or feel his legs, but he thought that maybe, just maybe he could fool himself into believing otherwise. Though he knew that once they arrived at the hospital and the doctors did their thing, his delusion would be shattered along with what was left of his life.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"_Trauma team to the trauma room! Trauma team to the trauma room!" _The tinny voice over the intercom carried over the din of the Emergency Room at the Colorado Springs Memorial hospital making all of the staff stop dead in their tracks.

Dr. Janet Frasier Jackson looked up from the patient chart that she was writing in and breathed out an exasperated sigh. She'd just started her shift as the Chief Resident Trauma Surgeon an hour ago and already had two major traumas come into the ER. Her latest patient was her sister-in-law who was in Radiology getting her wrist x-rayed after a fall at a fire site and she found herself wondering if this latest crisis involved yet another member of the fire department. She handed off the chart and ran toward the trauma room.

"Anyone know what we got coming in?" She asked as entered the trauma bay and made her way over to the supply shelf.

"A forty-eight year old male patient with a gunshot wound to the abdomen," a nurse replied as she helped Janet don a fresh gown.

"Stats?" Janet asked as she pulled on a pair of rubber gloves.

The nurse picked up the call slip from the counter and began to read it off, "BP 80/70, respirations shallow at 18 BPM, heart rate is 95. Patient is drifting in and out of consciousness. ETA is three minutes."

Janet began to mentally formulate a plan of care as she watched the rest of the trauma team ready the room to receive the patient. Before they knew it, the announcement was made that the patient had arrived. The trauma team sprang into action as the gurney was rolled into the trauma bay. Janet hurried up to the side of the gurney then froze and her breath hitched in her chest when she saw the prone man on the gurney.

"Jack!" She gasped out loud.

Jack's eyes cracked open and he turned them toward the sound of Janet's voice. "Janet?" Jack's voice was no more than a whisper.

Janet rubbed her hand gently down his cheek, "It's okay, Jack. Can you tell me what happened?"

"G-ot sh-ot," Jack croaked as his eyes began to slide shut.

"Jack! I need you to stay with me. Did you see who shot you?"

"Pale face wearing a- black hood. Didn't know 'im."

"Did you see what kind of gun it was?"

"No, jus' fla-sh then p-pain," Jack replied breathlessly, the oxygen mask fogging with each huffed breath.

"That's okay, Jack. We're just going to get your clothes off here and check you over. It's going to get a bit crazy here. You're going to feel a lot of people doing a lot of things and some of its going to hurt. Just try to stay with me," Janet explained in a comforting voice.

Jack looked at her with half opened eyes and gave her as good of a nod that he could manage with the restrictive brace on his neck. Janet was glad that Sam was in Radiology and not here to witness the state that her husband was in. She worked quickly and methodically, checking Jack over and telling her staff what to do and when to do it. It was obvious to her that even though Jack was stable now, he was on the verge of going downhill at any moment. After his front side was checked and the catheter was in place, she walked up to the head of the gurney. Jack's eyes were closed and his face was tight with pain. She laid a gentle hand on his shoulder to get his attention and when his eyes slowly slid back open, she offered him a consoling smile.

"Jack, we're going to need to roll you onto your side to check your back for the exit wound and other injuries. This might hurt a bit, but we'll be as quick as we can okay?"

"Yeah," Jack replied then closed his eyes.

Janet gave him a smile then nodded to the staff. After a three count, Jack was rolled onto his left side in one swift, but gentle motion. Janet bit her lip to hold back a gasp when she saw a large knot on Jack's back beside an abrupt curve in his spine. She lightly ran her fingers over it, eliciting a sharp groan from Jack.

"I'm sorry, Jack," Janet said. "Does anything hurt you back here?"

"Tender where- ya pushed. C'n't feel – my legs," Jack grunted out through clenched teeth.

Janet felt a sinking feeling in her stomach as they eased him back onto his back and she motioned for the nurse to cover Jack with a sheet, "Jack, there's a slight bump at your spine. I want to get some x-rays to see what's going on," she told him then turned her attention to another nurse, "Get Radiology in here with a portable unit. I want chest and spinal. Get him started on a unit of O negative. Call the OR and tell them to get ready. I want him up there as soon as we find out where that bullet is for sure."

Janet just finished speaking when Radiology entered the room with a portable x-ray machine and set to work. By the time they finished Jack was groaning in pain and in obvious distress.

"Get me an intubation kit ready, please," Janet said then turned her attention to Jack, "Jack? The x-rays are all done now. I'm going to take a quick look at them, after that I'm going to give you some medicine to put you to sleep and then I'm going to put a tube in to help you breathe before we take you in to surgery okay?"

"Okay," Jack replied.

Janet hurried over to the light box where Jack's x-rays were hanging. What she saw made her heart race and her chest tighten like someone had punched her with all their strength. The bullet was lodged in Jack's spine between the tenth and eleventh thoracic vertebrae, his spinal cord pinched into a small thin line.

"Call Dr. McNabb, tell him that we got a T10-11 unstable SCI down here and that we're taking the patient to the OR stat. Tell Dr. Stanford that I need to see him," Janet instructed the nurse. Having to call in the SCI specialist drove home the seriousness of the situation and it brought tears to her eyes. Now came the worst part, having to tell her brother-in-law and friend that there was a very high chance that he would never walk again. She took a deep steadying breath then walked back over to the gurney where he lay. Reaching out, she put her slightly trembling hand on his cheek to get his attention, "Jack?"

Jack's eyelids slowly slid open and his pain filled eyes stared up at her, "You look- like you lost your pet- cat."

Janet smiled; the comment was so typically Jack. "Jack, the bullet is lodged in your spine between your tenth and eleventh vertebrae. Between that and the displaced vertebrae, it's putting a lot of pressure on your spinal cord on top of the damage that was already done from the shooting. That's why you can't feel your legs. None of your organs were hit, but there is some internal bleeding."

"Is it- permanent?" Jack asked in a painfully resigned voice.

"I can't say for sure right now. There's the swelling plus the spinal shock-"

"Doc!"

"I can't say for sure on you until we do the testing, but from my prior experience in cases like this- it's usually permanent," Janet answered sadly. The expression on Jack's face told her that he knew what the problem was, but needed to hear it. "Jack, I'm sorry.- I'm going to go ahead and put you to sleep and get the breathing tube in. I want to get you up to the OR as soon as possible."

Jack gave her a slight nod. She took the syringe from the nurse and injected the contents into one of Jack's IVs.

"Tell-Sa-m M'rry Chris'mas. Love her," Jack huffed out as the medicine began to kick in.

"I'll tell her. Just relax and let the medicine work," Janet explained.

As soon as Jack's eyes drifted closed, Janet sprang into action and within seconds the breathing tube was in place. After a quick check to make sure the tube was in place, Janet stepped back to allow the nurse to attach the tube to a portable machine. As soon as Jack was ready to go, the entourage made their way out of the ER. Just as they stopped at the elevator, Dr. Stanford arrived. She asked him to take over Sam's care in the ER, but not to tell her about Jack. She would do that later herself. Janet walked along side Jack's gurney as they made their way up to the operating room.

SG-1 SG-1 SG-1

Sam lay back on the bed and stared at the clock, her broken wrist resting on a stack of pillows at her side. It had been four hours since she'd arrived at the hospital and she'd just been settled in her room forty-five minutes ago. She was admitted for observation as a result of the concussion and she was anxious to see Jack. Something felt wrong to her and that feeling was intensified when she came back from x-ray to hear that Janet had been called away on an emergency. Just as her mind began to run away from her, there was a light tap at the door. She looked up just as the door opened and Daniel, MacGyver, Pete, and George entered the room.

"Hey, Sam," Daniel greeted as they walked toward the bed.

Sam lightly ran her fingers over the bandaged taped above her left eye, "Got a lovely headache and my wrist hurts a bit."

"It's a good thing you weren't hurt worse than that, Sam," MacGyver replied as he put the brakes on his wheelchair.

"Yeah, you're right. I'm just a bit irritated at myself for what happened. I should have been paying more attention."

Pete stepped closer to the bed and took hold of Sam's right hand, "Sam, honey, accidents happen and there's nothing you can do to stop it when it does. Don't put yourself down for it."

Sam smiled and squeezed his hand. Pete was more than a father-in-law to her; he was the next best thing to a natural father than anyone could ask for. He'd been there for her when she needed him, especially since her own father had passed away four years ago. Despite the family's long separation, they all shared the same qualities that you just couldn't help but admire. Over the years they'd thrown out the in-law reference because they were as close as any blood family.

"Dad, I-," Sam began, but was interrupted by her door opening and a very tense Janet entering the room. A large, hard lump formed in Sam's throat and it took her a few minutes to find her voice, "Janet?"

Janet walked over to Sam's bed and sat down by her legs. She looked down at the floor and shook her head sadly then looked up at Sam, "Sam, Jack's been shot."

Sam let out a screeched gasp then broke down into an all-out sobbing fit. It took her a few minutes to calm down enough to be able to speak, "When? Is he alright?"

"He was brought in a while after you were. The bullet hit him in the abdomen just beneath his ribs. He's still in surgery at the moment. I repaired the internal bleeding, but I had to call in a specialist to finish," Janet answered quietly.

"Finish what?" MacGyver asked as he reached up and took hold of Sam's arm.

"Jack's surgery," Janet responded quietly then paused, trying to find the right words. With a deep steadying breath she continued, "Sam, the bullet hit his spine. It fractured his vertebrae and did some damage to his spinal cord. We won't know the extent of the damage until we can do some tests. It's highly possible that he'll be paralyzed from the waist down."

Silence fell over the room like a thick blanket of dense, dark fog on a cold spring morning. The only sounds to be heard was Sam's hard sobs and the beeping of her heart monitor. It wasn't that she was upset about Jack being paralyzed, because she would love him no matter what. It was because he needed her and she wasn't there for him.

"Does he know?" Daniel asked as he rubbed Sam's arm.

"Yes, he does. We talked a little about before we put him to sleep to put the breathing tube in. He had mentioned that he couldn't feel his legs and I told him that the bullet had hit his spine. Sam, he told me to tell you that he loved you and Merry Christmas."

Sam burst into tears yet again. It was so typical of Jack, faced with the possibility of paralysis, but only worried about her.

SG-1 SG-1 SG-1

Instead of a jolly atmosphere, Christmas Day brought an air of anxious tension as Sam, Pete, and MacGyver waited for Jack to wake up. Sam sat at his side, holding his hand and urging him to wake up. She'd been discharged just after breakfast and she'd been at his side ever since despite Janet's proddings to go home and rest. She didn't want to go home to rest, she wanted to be here with Jack and be the first thing that he saw when he woke up. None of them could even begin to guess what his reaction was going to be when he hears the extent of his injury and no one really wanted to. The only thing that anyone was certain of is that he would not be going through it alone.

A huff of air behind the oxygen mask on Jack's face caught her attention and she sat straight up in her chair. Leaning over the safety rail of the bed so that her mouth was close to his ear then began to speak in a low, comforting voice, "Jack? Sweetie, open your eyes for me please. Come on. Dad and MacGyver are here to see you."

Jack's eyelids fluttered then slowly opened to reveal a sliver of his chocolate brown eyes. "Sam?" He croaked.

"Yes, my love, I'm right here."

"You 'kay?" Jack asked breathlessly, his hold on consciousness obviously slipping.

"I'm fine, Jack. I just broke my wrist and got a concussion. They released me a while ago," Sam replied as she gently ran her hand over his cheek.

"Not- a good way- to spend- Christmas," Jack said as his eyes drifted closed.

MacGyver leaned forward and put his hand on Jack's shoulder, "We're just glad that you're still with us, Jack. Just worry about getting' better huh."

Jack just gave a slight nod of his head as he drifted off to sleep. Sam held onto Jack's hand, rubbing gentle circles on the back of it. Jack was right, this wasn't a very good way to spend Christmas and her mind began to grind away, trying to figure out some small way to make this tragic Christmas a brighter one for Jack. She chatted with Pete and MacGyver for a while until a big grin appeared on Pete's face.

"What are you grinning about, Dad?" Sam asked with a slight smile on her lips and a puzzled look on her face.

"Oh, I was just thinking. Why don't we go get a small tree and have Christmas here with Jack?"

Sam's face lit up, "I was just trying to think of a way to cheer him up and that would be absolutely perfect! We could go to our house and get the presents."

"Yeah and we can get a small pre-lit tree at the twenty-four hour mart down the street," MacGyver pitched in.

"Are they open today?" Sam asked apprehensively.

"Yep. I had to run there last Christmas morning because I forgot the marshmallows for Nikki's sweet potato casserole. She nearly choked me to death, so I ran down there and got some. It was one of many times that I was glad that I got my Jeep adapted."

Sam laughed as she imagined the scenario then stood up and grabbed her coat from the back of the chair. She looked over to see Pete pulling his coat on well, but MacGyver stayed at Jack's side holding his hand. "Aren't you coming, Mac?"

"Nah, I'm gonna sit here with him in case he wakes up," MacGyver said as he looked hopefully at his brother.

"Well, do ya need anything?" Pete asked as put on his cap.

"I'm good," MacGyver replied then grinned. "Wait! Grab Daniel on way back."

The grin on MacGyver's face made chills go up and down Sam's spine. They were identical in every way right down to the scar through their left eyebrow and now looking at MacGyver sitting there with that crooked grin on his face made her feel like she was looking at Jack.

"We'll be back in an hour or two. Call my cell if you need anything," Sam said then bent over and gave MacGyver a hug. She walked back up to Jack's bed and took his hand, "I'll be back, Sweetheart. I love you." She bent down and kissed his cheek.

After a quick wave to Mac, Pete and Sam walked out of the room.

SG-1 SG-1 SG-1

The family Christmas party was in full swing, well as full of a swing as a party in the ICU could be. Jack lay on his bed, watching his family laugh and open the last of their presents. Sam had already opened his for him before his twentieth nap of the day and the love and thoughtfulness behind the gifts made him temporarily forget his pain.

"Hey, look who's awake! How are you feeling son?" George asked then smiled.

"Pretty good thanks to Janet's happy juice," Jack replied in a sleepy voice.

Pete stood up from his chair and walked over to Jack's bed. He put his hand on Jack's arm and gave it gentle squeeze. "Are you sure? You sound kinda tired."

"I'm fine, dad. It's just from the pain medicine is all."

"He's right, hon. Maybe we should wrap this up and let you get some rest," Sam suggested as she tossed a wad of wrapping paper into the trash.

"I said I was fine!" Jack growled as loud as he could in his condition.

"Fine my eye, Jack. You were shot for crying out loud. You need to get some rest and heal. And that's exactly what you are going to do or else I'll get Janet to knock you out completely and put that tube down your throat that we all know how much you love," MacGyver chided his twin.

"D'n't tell me wha' ta do. 'm older," Jack slurred as his eyelids slowly closed.

"Only by seven minutes," Mac retorted in a whisper when he saw that his twin had fallen asleep.

Everyone whispered their goodbyes then George, Pete, and Daniel gathered up armloads of gifts to carry out to the car. MacGyver waited for Sam as she gave Jack a kiss and told him goodnight.

SG-1 SG-1 SG-1

Jack watched intently as the nurse removed the bandage from the incision on his torso. The wound ran from the very tip of his sternum to just above his naval. The sight of the surgical staples made him totally sympathize with Frankenstein. He didn't even want to imagine what the one on his back looked like. At least they took that damn annoying feeding tube out of his nose and most of the monitors and tubes. The nurse finished her ministrations and left the room, leaving Jack in the quietness to think. Which, these days, was far from a good thing. Ever since Dr. McNabb was in last week and did his testing Jack had been on the dumpy side. Though under the circumstances, who could blame him? A light tap at his door interrupted his thoughts and he looked over to see his twin brother wheeling himself into the room.

"Hey, Mac," Jack greeted.

"Jack," Mac replied as he stopped beside Jack's bed.

"Where's everyone else at?"

"Dad and George are at home. Janet's around here somewhere and Daniel took Sam to do some shopping."

"Ah, so you come to babysit did ya?"

"Jack, come on," MacGyver admonished. "I came to talk to you. Janet said that Dr. McNabb was in to see you this morning about your test results."

Jack let out a sad sigh and stared at the ceiling, "Yeah."

"What'd he say?"

Jack looked at his brother and saw the sincerity in his eyes. They'd been close since their reunion and now they had one more thing in common than they had before. He took a deep breath in effort to quell his rising emotions, though as he began to speak he could feel the tears burning in his eyes.

"He said that I got a T10 complete spinal cord injury," Jack told him in a quiet voice, a lone tear sliding down his cheek.

MacGyver swallowed hard and his eyes teared up, "How do you feel about that?"

"How the fuck do you think I feel, MacGyver? I'm pissed off. Sad. Scared. Yes, the great and powerful Jack O'Neill is scared shitless! It's not fucking fair. Some crackpot shoots me for no damn reason at all and I wind up with a numb ass that will be planted in a wheelchair for the rest of my life!"

MacGyver reached up and took his brother's hand and held it tight, "I know how you feel, Jack."

More tears streamed down Jack's cheeks as he looked at MacGyver. He knew that it wasn't fair for him to take out his frustrations on him. After all, he more than anyone, knew how he felt right now. He too was a T10 complete and had been for the past ten years. Never once had he whined or complained. Sure, he had a severe bout of depression at the beginning, but he never let his disability hold him back. It was a very admirable quality and at this moment, Jack valued it more than he'd ever had before. He tightened his grip on his brother's hand, "I know, Mac, and I'm sorry."

"Hey, no need to be sorry. If you remember I was pretty well upset after what happened to me and many times I ripped yours and dad's heads off. But, your just as much, if not more bullheaded than I am. If I didn't let it get me, then I know for a fact that you aren't going to let it get you. You're not alone in this, Jack."

"Thanks, Mac."

"Hey, that's what brothers are for. Just think of the fun that we can have?"

Jack took one look at the mischievous grin on his twin's face and they both busted out laughing. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what MacGyver meant.


	3. Chapter 3-Final Chapter

**Chapter 3**

The airport terminal was crowded with people waiting for the passengers to de-plane. A loud buzz of anxious chatter erupted and signs bearing various last names were raised in the air as the first passenger stepped off the jet way. Sam quickly held up the sign that she had with Nikki's name on it as high as she could as more passengers stepped out and the small terminal rapidly became even more crowded. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Nikki walk into the room and spot the sign that she was holding.

"Sam!" Nikki exclaimed as she threw her arms around her sister-in-law's neck and embraced her in hug.

"Nikki, it's good to see you," Greeted in return as the two women pulled apart.

Nikki picked up her suitcase and followed Sam out of the airport, "Is Mac still at the hospital with Jack?"

"Yeah, it's Jack's first therapy session with his permanent wheelchair and the therapist is going to show him the brochures for the rehab hospitals for him to choose from. He wanted Mac there to give him pointers and help him to decide where to go."

"You'd think he'd want you there for that. After all you're his wife, not that I mind him helping."

"Oh, neither do I. Mac knows what it's like and honestly he's the only one that can truly help him."

"When does he get transferred to the rehab hospital?" Nikki asked as they arrived at Sam's car.

Sam opened the trunk for Nikki to put her suitcase in, "Two weeks. Dr. McNabb and Janet wanted to wait until his surgical incision healed and they removed the staples before he got intensive therapy."

They got in the car and began the drive to MacGyver's home. As Sam drove she tried to build up the courage to ask Nikki to help investigate Jack's shooting and see if it was tied to the prior attacks. But, she didn't want to drag Nikki away on anything else since she and MacGyver had already been separated for over three as it was. But, she just had to ask.

"Did MacGyver ever tell you what I went for training on?" Nikki asked before Sam could get a chance to say anything.

"No," Sam replied.

"I went for arson investigation training. There was a job opening and I applied for it. A few days later I got a call that I got the job, but I had to go for some training first. Tomorrow, I go to work on Jack's case," Nikki said then smiled.

Sam swerved slightly and chills swept through her when what Nikki had said sunk in. Hope swelled in her heart at the prospect of the wacko that shot Jack getting caught and in prison so that they could get on with their lives.

"I can't begin to tell you how relieved that makes me feel. There was another fire and shooting last week. The man died the next day and the police still don't have clues or suspects."

"Have you told Jack?"

"No, we're afraid too. It's a hard enough situation for him without possibly adding more fear and guilt to it. I know I for one am afraid that he'll come back and try to finish the job with Jack since so far he's the only one to have survived the attacks," Sam admitted in a trembling voice.

"Well, I'll get to work on this and we'll get this nutcase off of the street before he can hurt anyone else. Can we stop at the police station before we head home? I want to pick up the case file so I can read over it before tomorrow."

"Sure," Sam replied then smiled. She wasn't lying when she'd said that this was a relief.

SG-1 SG-1 SG-1

Jack sat in his wheelchair, staring out the window at the snow covered grounds of the rehab hospital and thought about his Sam. It was a great hospital, but the major downside was that it was an hour's drive from home and days like this when a snow storm hit, the roads were too bad for her to visit. He hated that, especially on days like today when he needed her. It'd been a long day and it wasn't even halfway over. It all started with a not-so-lovely breakfast followed by one of the longest sessions with the shrink he'd had since his arrival. The only thing that kept Jack from strangling the life out of the nerdy pencil pusher was the fact that he too was in a wheelchair as a result of being t-boned by a drunk driver.

'_Are you angry over what happened?'_

Of course he was angry, who wouldn't be?

'_How do you feel about the person who shot you?'_

How does a dog feel about a cat?

'_If you could talk to the person who shot you, what would you say?'_

It wasn't what he would say to the nutcase that people should worry about, it was what he would do.

The session replayed in his mind until he shook his head then turned away from the window. Looking at the clock he realized that it was just about time for his physical therapist to come and get him for his afternoon torture session. The tell-tale tap at the door told him that the devil had arrived. If he didn't know any better, he could swear that each member of the staff had their own distinctive knock to warn the patient of their impending doom. He didn't even look up to see the tall, muscular man with sandy brown hair enter the room and approach him.

"Hello, Dave," Jack greeted his physical therapist.

"Hey, Jack. Um, how did you know that it was me?"

"You knock like ya really gotta go potty, but are afraid to tell whoever is in there to hurry up," Jack replied as he turned his wheelchair around.

Dave laughed as he got behind Jack's chair and grabbed a hold of the handles. "Is that so? Well, I guess I'd better work on that."

"No, I just gotta work on my hiding skills," Jack returned as they started down the corridor.

"It's good that you still have your sense of humor, Jack."

"Who said that I was joking?"

Dave laughed again and Jack couldn't help but laugh too. He was being serious, but my God did Dave have a contagious laugh.

SG-1 SG-1 SG-1

MacGyver rolled down the rehab hospital's hallway with Nikki walking by his side holding a folder in her hand. The smell of the steak dinners in the bag on his lap left an enticingly aromatic trail behind them. They were on their way to see Jack to deliver the best news that he'd received since the shooting and what he knew for sure that both Jack and Sam were waiting for. But, there was downside that he knew that neither of them would be all that happy to hear. They entered the room to find Jack and Sam sitting at the table playing cards.

"Hey, guys! Want me to deal ya in?" Jack greeted when he saw Mac and Nikki in the doorway.

"Maybe next time. We brought ya somethin'," Mac said as he rolled up to a spot at the table then put the bag containing the steak dinners on it. He looked up at his wife with a smile, "Nikki, would you please hand my twin brother the folder in your hand?"

"I would love to, my dear husband," Nikki replied proudly as she handed Jack the folder.

"What's this?" Jack asked as he took the folder from Nikki.

"Just look at it," MacGyver said, waving his hands in a shooing motion

Jack laid the folder on the table between him and Sam then opened. While they looked over the contents MacGyver removed the insulated take-out containers from the bag and sat one at each seat. Nikki sat down in the chair beside MacGyver and they watched anxiously for Jack and Sam's reactions.

"Is this David Murdoc the guy that shot me?"

"Yes, it is. He was arrested three days ago trying to set fire to a house 10 miles away from where you was shot. They found an AK-47 in his car and the bullets matched not only the one from your shooting, but from the two shootings before yours and the one after. He confessed to the shootings and the arsons," Nikki informed them.

"But, why? Why did he do it?" Jack asked in a quiet voice.

Mac looked at Nikki then at Jack, swallowing hard before he began to speak, "Well, that's a little complicated. You see it turns out that his adopted father was my arch-enemy, Murdoc. Murdoc was a member of HIT – Homicide International Trust and we had a number of run–ins over the years."

Jack interrupted, "Murdoc was an assassin? And this kid was Murdoc's son?"

"Well, yes, and no. Not exactly," Mac replied. "Murdoc was a hit man, but the kid was actually the biological son of Murdoc's sister, Ashton. When David was 5, Ashton was killed in a skiing accident in Europe, and Murdoc was named the guardian in her will. Although Murdoc apparently liked the kid and doted on him whenever they were together he was rather reluctant to retire from HIT, and HIT wasn't too pleased with Murdoc because I was the only one that he was unable to kill. Nevertheless, Murdoc did retire from HIT and adopted the boy, giving him his last name."

"Oy," Jack said wiping his hand over his face.

Nikki picked up the story. "But, it seems that when Murdoc told HIT he was retiring, they were quite upset because there were many secrets that he had that they didn't want known. "

"And they didn't trust Murdoc to keep quiet." Mac interjected.

Nikki nodded, "Apparently they decided that Murdoc was a liability and the best thing to do was to get rid of him."

Sam jumped in, "So they set out to assassinate the assassin." she surmised.

Both Nikki and Mac nodded as they said at the same time, "Yep."

Mac continued, "So HIT sent out an assassin to kill Murdoc. The assassin, assuming that he had killed Murdoc, then set off a very cleverly constructed and almost undetectable bomb that would burn the house down and make it look like Murdoc died in a tragic house fire."

"The only problem was that, Murdoc being Murdoc, he wasn't killed, but only wounded and just as the house caught fire, David came home from school to see the house engulfed in flames."

Jack groaned and rolled his eyes up towards the ceiling, understanding the implication.

Nikki continued: "The house Murdoc owned was a big mansion just outside of the Springs. Four fire departments responded to the call. The kid was standing there watching the fire and could see that Murdoc was still in an upstairs bedroom."

Mac picked up where Nikki left off, "Apparently after seeing Murdoc was still in the house, the kid became hysterical, and who could blame him? It was only a year earlier that he lost his mother. Although he wasn't in Europe when Ashton died, he was now watching the only other family that he knew he had die. The Fire Chiefs eventually pulled their men out because the fire was too strong and the support beams were falling down."

"So no one knew about the grandparents?" Sam asked.

Mac and Nikki shook their heads at the same time.

Everyone was then quiet for a few moments. Then Jack asked, "What happened to the kid?"

"He'd suffered some sort of mental breakdown and was put in an institution where he stayed until he was eighteen, which was two months ago. Apparently, the entire time he was in there, he was plotting his revenge against the fire chiefs from those four departments. Colorado Springs was the third on his list."

"How did he get the gun if he had been committed?" Sam asked as she swiped a tear from her cheek.

"It was Murdoc's gun. While he was in the institution, the State apparently was able to track down his only other living relatives, his grandparents. When he was released, he went to his grandparents' house who apparently still had some of Murdoc's stuff from when he was younger. The arsons and shootings started a week later," Nikki answered.

"So, I got shot because I was a Fire Chief?" Jack asked.

"That and the fact that you look so much like your twin brother that David apparently thought you were Mac. I guess he figured he'd kill two birds with one stone." Nikki added.

"I'm sorry, Jack," MacGyver said as he laid a comforting hand on his brother's arm. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I can't say that I don't hate him for what he did, because I do. He may have taken the use of my legs away from me, but I'm not going to let him take my life. I have to admit that at first I was scared as hell at the thought of being paralyzed, but then I sat and thought about you, Mac. You got just as much of a shitty deal as I did, but you showed me that there is a life after this," Jack replied as he waved his hands over his legs.

"That's great, Jack. I'm really proud of you. There's one more thing that I came to tell you. The English teacher, Mr. Pearson, is going to retire. I talked to him and he's going to wait for two years until you're done with rehab and so you can finish your degree to take his place," MacGyver told him and when Jack opened his mouth to object, Mac held his hand up to stop him. "Before you object, Mr. Pearson and I have already talked to the school board and they approved it."

"I don't know what to say."

Sam squeezed Jack's arm, "Say yes, Jack."

"Yes, Jack," Jack parroted then gave Sam a crooked grin.

"Come on now, guys. The steaks are getting cold. Let's eat," Nikki said, motioning toward the take-out containers.

Four years later…..

Jack lifted the last burger off of the grill and plopped it onto the plate that Sam held. He wheeled over to the table behind her as she sat them down among the rest of the cook-out grub.

"Alright, everybody, come and get it," Jack shouted into the house.

It didn't take long for the rest of his family to come out of the house and to the picnic table on the deck. MacGyver wheeled himself up beside Jack where they'd removed a section of the bench to accommodate their wheelchairs. Sam, Nikki, and Janet sat on one side of the table while Daniel, George, and Pete sat together on the other side. The family talked and laughed while they ate. It was more than a fourth of July cook-out to them; it was a family cook-out. In the past four years they spent nearly every day together; whether it be on the phone or in-person.

"So, Jack, did you get your lesson plans ready for the fall yet?" George asked as he passed the big bowl of potato salad to Pete.

"Almost, ya know it's been a lot easier this year," Jack replied.

Pete scooped out a helping of potato salad and handed the bowl to Daniel. "That's because you're not worrying about doing it the wrong way. You know what you're doing this time."

"You got that right, dad. Jack the worry wart, became Jack the pro," MacGyver ribbed his twin brother.

Jack leaned over and gave Mac a playful elbow poke as everyone laughed. "Mac, you should stop teaching and be a comedian."

"I wish that I had a dollar every time one of the other teachers get the two of you mixed up. Remember that day that I came to the school for the college fair and that teacher did it?" Daniel interjected then laughed.

"If that was the case, you'd be a millionaire Danny Boy," Jack replied.

"Still wouldn't have as much as you do, Jack," Daniel responded, then instantly regretted it.

Jack smiled at his little brother to let him know that he was okay. As he stared down at his plate, the memory of the hearing replayed in his mind. It was about a month after he was released from the rehab hospital when he got a letter from the local prosecutor's office that he had to appear at the sentencing hearing to make a victim's impact statement. What the letter didn't say was that the grandparents of David Murdoc were going to be there and they had something to say to him. He wasn't afraid to admit that he was nervous as hell, but he held it together enough to say his piece. What he wasn't prepared for was what the grandmother said when she stood in front of the courtroom.

'_I'd like to begin by giving the victims of my grandson's crimes my condolences and apologies. My daughter, Ashton, was a good woman and she tried her best to raise David to be a good kid. When Ashton died, David was inconsolable, and we were astonished when Balor, our son took him in as we hadn't seen Balor in years and then when Balor died in that horrible house fire…. If I had known that David had been planning these horrendous crimes, grandson or not, I would have fought to have kept him in the institution. My son was very wealthy and had left all his money to David. The money was put into an account under my charge to be given to him at my discretion. But, knowing what I know now, and since David will be spending the rest of his natural life in an institution, he won't need it. So, I've decided to give the money to the victims of these atrocious crimes. Altogether, my son's estate was valued at $4.5 million and with over thirteen years of interest and added income from various investments comes to $16 million. I've decided to give $3 million to each family of the deceased fireman and the remaining $7 million to you, Mr. O'Neill, in hopes that it will relieve some of your medical and other added expenses for your care. Also, for the loss of income that you had depended on._

_Please don't think that this is an attempt to pay for your forgiveness of my grandson's actions or my attempt to ease my conscience because it's not. I know the pain of losing a loved one and how hard it is to move on with that pain in the heart. Mr. O'Neill, I can't begin to imagine how much your life has changed or how hard it is for you to live with the consequences of this tragedy. Nor, can I begin to imagine how hard it was for you to have been forced into giving up a job that you loved to do._

_Though, I know that no amount of money will ever make up for what has happened, I hope that it does some good in your lives. Please know that you are all in my thoughts and prayers. Thank you."_

The words still echoed in his mind as if he'd just heard them and he could still see the elderly woman standing at the podium, periodically swiping the tears from her eyes as she spoke. They'd kept in touch since then and she had become like a grandmother to him. Every Memorial Day the families of the victim's would get together for dinner to remember their lost loved ones and offer each other support. It was something how such a tragedy had brought total strangers together and made them as close as family and made families closer than ever before.

**The End**

_This story was originally developed as a Christmas present for my dear friend NAZ who has been so wonderful in helping me develop stories. It was inspired by the Season 6, Episode 9 "Changeling." I finished it just before Christmas and sent it on its way. In the meantime, the horrible events on Christmas Eve in Webster, NY occurred. Later, another person read the story and pointed out the similarities of the events in Webster, NY to the basic plot of my story, including the fact that the story's events occurred on Christmas Eve. To say I was surprised was an understatement, especially since I was completely unaware of what was going on in NY. At any rate, I hope everyone who reads and enjoys this story takes the time to thank a fireman or firewoman for their service to their communities. They truly are heroes._

_I would also say a special thank you to an anonymous "evil" (but in a good way!) little devil that had helped with this story._

9


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